


Improvisation

by Sarahtoo



Series: Phrack Fucking Friday [12]
Category: Miss Fisher's Murder Mysteries
Genre: F/M, Phrack Fucking Friday, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, pff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-01
Updated: 2017-09-01
Packaged: 2018-12-22 13:36:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,109
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11968497
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sarahtoo/pseuds/Sarahtoo
Summary: Phryne and Jack have managed to sneak away from one of Aunt Prudence's parties to find some time to be alone. This is probably the closest thing to actual PWP I've ever done. I hope you enjoy it! :D





	Improvisation

**Author's Note:**

> Just a quick public service announcement: For those who aren't on Tumblr, the lovely Fire_Sign has asked me to make a mention of this year's Phryne ficathon, for which she's now accepting prompts! All the info can be found [here](http://firesign23.tumblr.com/post/164859129682/phryne-ficathon-3-phracking-in-the-new-year) \- come join us in ficathon madness!!

Phryne couldn’t help the smile that stretched her mouth wide. She wasn’t really comfortable—the door was rough against her bare shoulder blades, and she thought she might bruise from the hard grip of Jack’s hands on her thighs as he thrust inside her body—and some distant part of her mind thought that she should care. He’d wrinkled her skirt beyond fixing, and her fascinator had fallen to the storeroom floor when he’d grabbed her head to kiss her, but the slide of his body within hers was exquisite enough to pardon many sartorial ills.

She shifted, sliding her hands into his hair; pulling back on it, she lifted his head from where he’d buried it in her neck. His beautiful, changeable eyes were blurry with passion, and his face was streaked with crimson smears of lipstick. She thought he’d never been so handsome.

Pressing her mouth to his, she pulled him close as she kissed him with everything in her. His thrusts slowed, becoming less frenzied, longer and deeper, his pelvis grinding against her clit each time he bottomed out within her body. Phryne keened softly at the sensation, her tongue sliding against his, mimicking his rhythm.

Pulling back a little, his mouth still against hers, he spoke, nonsense words of love and desire that barely registered, but his voice was rough velvet rubbing against her skin. Phryne felt her climax building, sending shivering bolts of sensation from her still-covered breasts to the sensitive flesh between her thighs. It pooled there as his hips pushed hard into hers, thrust after thrust, the hardened length of his cock filling her over and over. She stroked one hand down the side of his face, her fingers tracing his jaw, before grasping the collar of his shirt. His skin was warm and slightly sweat-dampened, and she could feel his pulse beating quickly against her palm.

Voices sounded outside the door as the denizens of the house went about their day-to-day business, unaware that in the dark world of the storeroom, the Honorable Miss Phryne Fisher was being shagged to within an inch of insanity. The possibility that one of those voices would decide that now was the moment they required a jar of peaches or a dustpan ratcheted the tension in Phryne’s body even higher, and she silently laughed, pulling his head back to hers, her kiss becoming frenzied.

In response, he slid his hand to her knee and pulled it outward, allowing him a new angle of approach into her body. He continued to thrust, but now the silk-over-steel head of his cock bumped along her inner walls in a way that amplified her pleasure a hundredfold. She gasped his name into his mouth once, twice, but the third time became unintelligible as orgasm flashed through her. Her hand clenched on his collar, pulling it tight, and her whole body shook as she came, pleasure flowing over her, white-hot and brilliant. 

Jack kissed her hard as he continued to thrust, pressing through the rippling contractions of her most intimate muscles until his own climax hit. He muffled his groan of completion against her mouth, and the warm rush of his pleasure flooded her. She relished the shaking of his muscles and the stuttering of his hips as release tore through him.

Their kisses became languid and deep, and their bodies relaxed with the aftermath of orgasm. Jack’s hands slid to cup her bottom, and Phryne linked her ankles behind his back, wanting to keep him within her as long as she could. She slid her arms around his shoulders and held him to her, loving the way his hard chest pressed against her sensitive breasts. His fingers traced small circles against the silk of her knickers—he’d simply hooked the gusset with his finger to get inside her, and now they stretched snugly around her bottom.

Phryne lifted her mouth from his, but only far enough to speak. “You know, I really think that you do some of your best work when you’re improvising, Jack.”

He snorted, and she could feel his lips moving as he spoke. “Is that what this was, Miss Fisher?”

“Well, of course,” she replied, nipping playfully at his mouth as she grinned. “You didn’t think I planned this, did you?” Truth be told, she had planned it—or at least she’d hoped—at least enough that she’d placed her internal device before they’d left Wardlow.

“I wouldn’t put it past you,” he murmured, kissing her again and flexing his hips against hers, making her gasp lightly. “And it wasn’t nice to tease me like that in public.”

“You liked it,” she whispered even as she released her ankles and let her legs slide down his to the floor. 

“I did,” he admitted, tilting his head at her, his lips twitching. 

He stepped back slowly, and she felt every inch of his withdrawal. Snagging a kitchen towel from a nearby shelf, she cleaned the lipstick off of his face as he tucked himself away; he took it and returned the favor, then crouched to wipe the sticky residue from the insides of her thighs, pressing a swift kiss to her now-restored knickers before straightening again. She did her best to smooth down her skirt, her eyes scanning the room for her fascinator. Spotting it, she bent to pick it up and felt his hand skim over her upturned bottom.

She turned to him and placed a laughing kiss on his lips. “There’s no time to improvise again right now, inspector. We’re expected.”

“We were expected half an hour ago, Miss Fisher,” he said dryly, settling a hand on her waist as she lifted her arms to reattach her sparkling hairpiece.

“Yes, well, we’re fashionably late,” she teased, settling her hands on his shoulders and leaning in to him. He was so solid, her Jack. “Unless you’d rather we send our regrets for the rest of the party?”

“I feel a headache coming on,” he mused, leaning in to kiss her again, his tongue sliding into her mouth. She felt the rush of desire that his kisses always engendered, and her muscles went loose.

“You really do look a little peaky,” she breathed, as he lifted his mouth from hers. “We probably should retire for the evening.”

“What will you tell your aunt?” He didn’t seem to really care—his hands were skating over her body as he spoke, and she could feel his renewed arousal against her stomach.

“I don’t know,” she replied, stepping backward and catching his roving hands in hers. She gave him a brilliant smile. “I suppose I’ll just have to improvise.”


End file.
